


The answer is in the flowers

by aboutmikasa (Coco_c)



Series: Jeankasa [5]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, JeanKasa Weekend, jeankasa summer weekend, summer 19
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-02 09:52:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19439017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coco_c/pseuds/aboutmikasa
Summary: Every two Fridays ten minutes past seven, like a clock—unless the train arrived late—, the same guy entered her shop. First, he’d walk around the greenhouse for a few minutes, then he’d approach her, asking for flowers. It’d be a short conversation while she finished the day. Mikasa noticed the pattern by accident, the first time he wasn’t on time. For eight months he did the same. A different flower every time, as if he had a list, in alphabetical order.





	The answer is in the flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Jeankasa Summer Weekend on Tumblr  
> Ask Alexa/Siri prompt | “Las Flores” by Café Tacuba

Every two Fridays ten minutes past seven, like a clock—unless the train arrived late—, the same guy entered her shop. First, he’d walk around the greenhouse for a few minutes, then he’d approach her, asking for flowers. It’d be a short conversation while she finished the day. Mikasa noticed the pattern by accident, the first time he wasn’t on time. For eight months he did the same. A different flower every time, as if he had a list, in alphabetical order. 

They didn’t have every flower he requested, but she’d have them the next time if he wanted, the weather allowed, and her network of fellow florist helped her. Mikasa worked her butt getting them; a good florist made the flowers happy and customers happier, her father said and she liked the motto. Flowers lifted the spirit and her own existence proved it; a convenient trick created by chemicals on the brain would be Levi’s more pedestrian and rather cynical approach. The girl didn’t deny the scientific factor behind that, even if she opted for a more romantic one. Mikasa studied Botany and worked for her family’s Greenhouse since she was a kid, time enough to see both philosophies in action. 

Her customer smiled every time she gave him the flowers. A fine smile. The guy had slender fingers and ink stains on his hands. Hitch mentioned first he was hot and Mikasa didn’t deny it, for the florist he was a costumer, her favorite costumer. Hitch was the bubbly part-timer who flirted with Jean even if he didn’t flirt back. The guy noticed Hitch’s stare, the Hubble could have noticed Hitch’s stare and he didn’t reciprocate. If he bought flowers twice a month, maybe he had a special someone; more the reason to never react the way most guys reacted when Hitch giggled, leaning forward until her cleavage showed its glory. A deep crimson spread from his cheeks to his ears and he avoided the voluptuous girl, fixing his eyes on Mikasa, begging for help. The botanist liked better when the part-timer wasn’t around. 

When the clock marked the seven o’clock she smiled, looking at the bouquet of heliotropes. The guy impressed her flower-nerdy-self when requested the purple and tiny flower. He used “shrub” and “dwarf” wrong when describing the flowers and yet she controlled her usual snobbism, letting go of his mistake. Most people confused heliotropes with forget-me-nots, so, the girl gave him a free pass. 

Heliotropes. 

They reached the H and Mikasa wondered if he’d returned after the bouquet of zinnias. Would he ask for snapdragons in winter? Finding them would be more complicated than the birds of paradise he loved so much. That reminded her, she should ask him if the person receiving the flowers appreciated the birds of paradise. One of her best works, a simple and stunning arrangement.

Mikasa’s curiosity grew. Why did he want different flowers? Who received them? Once, a friend accompanied him and Jean, she remembered the name of the credit card, sounded nervous, more than usual and glared at the other guy. The freckled guy kept saying Jean needed to “tell her” something. Was he wooing a girl? It’d make sense considering how he chose every flower. Mikasa did an impressive job getting every requested flower, and at that point, she was invested on that courtship; _the girl_ better said yes. 

Who wouldn’t say yes to that gallant display of affection? Any other way, _their relationship_ wasn’t her business.

Mikasa looked at the clock, he was late. Yes, it wasn’t her business but Hitch was right; he was pleasant-looking; handsome if she must, athletic, taller than most guys, and the ashy blond suited him. If _the girl_ wasn’t into looks, he had used a third of the alphabet just to woo her with exquisite flowers, that alone would impress anyone. It’d impress Mikasa more than the fit of his jeans. And it was a good fit. 

The second thing Mikasa Ackerman noticed, was that she noticed him. Hitch mentioned the jeans; Mikasa, the long fingers and the flowers. 

The cocky yet easily flustered customer arrived thirty minutes late. 

“Thank God, you’re still open.” Jean panted as if he had run, smiling at her, “Hi!”

“Hi,” she smiled back. Did the effort paint a subtle cute pink on his cheeks too? “Did you run?”

“They closed the street for some festival and I took the wrong alley.”

“There's a Flower’s Festival this weekend.” The pamphlet she gave him had all the information. “We’ll take part in a roses contest if you have time.”

Jean took one rose from a basket and listened to Mikasa explaining the right care for the heliotropes. It was always the possibility he liked the flowers and bought them for himself, considering the complete attention he gave to her. It was kinda cute the serious tone he used to assure her he’d go to the contest and cheer on them. Jean insisted on helping her to close the store, blaming his own tardiness for the extra time she had to stay. 

“Not that you were waiting for me,” the whisper took her by surprise.

“I was.” She closed the register, and he stood quiet. “Don’t worry. You’re a regular and these puppies want you to take them home.” 

His hair had grown in the past months; it sure improved the undercut on his ID. Why was he suddenly so quiet? Did she make feel bad? He stared at the flowers and Mikasa remembered the source of her curiosity. 

“Jean,” Mikasa gave him the small bouquet of heliotropes. “Why are you buying these flowers?”

He blushed, took the flowers and stared at his shoes. “There’s a girl...”

“Figures,” she chuckled and Jean shook his head. 

“It’s not what you think,” he waited for her as she locked the door, following her as she walked. “She doesn’t like me. We’re not close.” 

“She will,” they arrived at the parking lot and he was about to leave; for whatever reason, her favorite costumer seemed down and Mikasa felt guilty for meddling in his business. “Do you need a ride?” 

“Yes!” It was a quick answer. “I mean, you don’t have to, I live nearby.”

Did she offer a ride a stranger? Not only she didn’t know him, every single one of her friends would testify about her not-very-sociable nature, but she wanted to know more and the guy had puppy eyes. She had his information and, well, after years of teaching self-defense in the Community Center, Jean should be the cautious one. 

“It’s okay.” 

“Thank you,” he smiled. A fine smile. A contagious smile.

None of them moved, and he leaned against her car. His hand had ink stains and once again she wanted to know why. Jean was a graphic designer working for a big company in the city and took the train every day.

Summer wasn’t her season and her hair lost another battle against the wind.

“Your hair…” Jean started but didn’t finish the sentence.

“My hair?” Mikasa asked, wondering if leaves nested on her bob.

“It’s…” His hand almost accommodated it behind her ear. “It’s really black.”

“Yes.”

“I mean, it’s pretty.”

“Thank you.”

He complimented her favorite feature, the guy stated the obvious first, though. Still, it was nice hearing she had pretty hair. Jean wooed with flowers and gave sweet compliments, _the girl_ was lucky and by no chance could not be interested. After that, she discovered they had friends in common, he lived three buildings from hers, and his “dirty blond” hair color was his natural color. 

Talking to him was enjoyable. 

“Jean, can I ask you for the flowers?” 

“The flowers?” 

“Why different flowers every time?” 

“Is it weird?” He avoided her glance. 

“Unusual.”

He laughed at himself. 

“Unusual is code for weird.” When he finally rose his eyes, something was different. “I want to know what’s her favorite flower.”

“Why don’t you ask her?” 

“That won’t do,” Jean shook his head again. “I want to see her face with every flower. I want to find out myself what she likes. Right now I believe she likes them all. It’s hard to know, she is… special.” 

Yes, _the girl_ was a lucky girl.

“Maybe she doesn’t have a favorite.” 

“She does,” he fidgeted with the bouquet of heliotropes, accommodating in it the single rose he insisted in buying even when Mikasa offered it as a token of appreciation for his regular purchases. The guy bit his lip, “I believe the amaryllis and the birds-of-paradise.”

Mikasa stared at him. 

Those were two of her favorites. Every memory of their encounters replying on her head; Jean talking to her, question after question about the flowers, listening to her and… Oh.

I’d definitely impress Mikasa. 

Jean had beautiful eyes too, eyes always following her, except when something flustered him. At said moment Jean didn’t look at her.

“You should ask her out tonight. Coffee is a good idea.” 

“What if she says no?” He looked at the rose, asking for unnecessary advice.

“I won’t.”

Mikasa greeted him with a smile of her own and he handed back the bouquet to her. Jean looked as adorable as possible; the more she knew him, the more she felt a fluttery sensation in her stomach, and he blushed in a way that made her want to kiss him. 

“Mikasa,” he stumbled every word. “Would you like to, mmm, have coffee with me?”

“Yes.” 

“Yes?”

“Yes,” her heart jumped at the way he gleamed. 

He was cuter than a lost puppy and she wanted to take him home and keep him. 


End file.
